One Flight Down
by SFGrl
Summary: While on a trip to see his dying father, Chandler struggles to reconnect with his own son. on hold
1. Traffic

**AN: Why, on God's green Earth am I starting _another_ series?  I don't know.  I love this song, and have been longing to use it, I suppose.**

**So, I just bought the new book from one of my fave all-time authors, Nick Hornby.  He did this book called _Songbook_, and it's about songs he likes that he turned into stories, and it includes a CD, with some of the songs (Badly Drawn Boy, Rufus Wainwright, Ben Folds, etc.) featured in the book.  The proceeds go The TreeHouse Trust.  It was published by this fabulous publisher here in San Francisco, McSweeney's (Dave Eggers' place).  You can order the book through McSweeneys.net, or through independent bookstores**_._

Anyhoo, this story is pretty self explanatory, and who knows when I'll get it done, lol.  Review, and let me know what you think!!

_One Flight Down_

_Chapter One: Traffic_

The traffic was at a standstill—a sea of glaring red lights and chrome bumpers.  Chandler looked at his watch, his hand thumping down onto the steering wheel resignedly.  He drummed his fingers over the steering wheel nervously, and sighed.  He'd missed dinner again, and he knew Monica would be pissed.  But then, she was always mad at him for _something_ these days.  If it wasn't his long work hours, it was the way he folded the laundry, or the fact that he didn't fold laundry enough.  It was the way he always left the toilet seat up, or the way he looked at her.  

It wasn't that she didn't love him—he knew she did.  He knew that she was miserable, but he didn't know how to fix it.  He didn't know what to say or do to make her happy.  And he hated that.  He hated that he couldn't read her mind anymore.

Things had been this way ever since Charlie, their fifteen-year-old son, began getting into trouble, both in and out of school.  Chandler, who had always hated confrontation, used his job as an excuse to avoid the inevitable parent-teacher conferences about Charlie, leaving Monica to pick up the slack.  But, Chandler reasoned, Monica had always been the disciplinarian, and Chandler had always been the 'fun' one.  He liked it that way, because he didn't like arguing with his own children.  

His cell phone rang, startling Chandler out of his thoughts.  He hesitated before picking it up, not sure that he wanted to argue with Monica while he was sitting on the highway in commuter traffic.  He picked up the phone, and clicked it on.

"Hello?" he said slowly.

"Bing, where are you?" It was Chandler's boss, Martin.

"I, uh, I'm on my way home, sir."

"So you finished the Hamilton project then?"

"Well, it's not due until Friday, so I—"

"No, they are coming in tomorrow!  Didn't you get my e-mail?"

"No, I—" Chandler thought for a moment.  Suddenly, in his mind's eye, he could see the e-mail.  _Shit_, he thought.

"It _has_ to be finished tonight," Martin said sternly.

Chandler sighed, and saw that his exit was coming up.  He was ten minutes from home, and forty from the office.

"I'll be there in half and hour, sir," Chandler said, and hung up the phone.

*

"What do you mean, you _had to go back_?" Monica said coldly into the phone, as Chandler pulled into his office parking structure.

"I thought this project was due on Friday, but it's actually due tomorrow," Chandler explained for the second time.

"So, you're gonna be out all night again?  Pretty convenient isn't it?"

"Mon," Chandler sighed.

"Don't 'Mon' me.  You have a family that needs you.  It's too back you can't seem to get your priorities straight."

"They _are_ straight!  I can't lose my job, Monica, that would—"

"Fine, stay there…stay there all night, I don't care!  You're certainly not sleeping in our bed tonight!" Monica hung up the phone with a bang.

"Great," Chandler mumbled, and keyed into his office.

Two hours later, Chandler was putting the finishing touches on his project, when the phone rang.  Figuring it was Monica, calling back for one more round before going to bed, he let it ring three times before answering.

"Hello?"

"Chandler?"

"Mom?"

"Monica said you were still at work.  Why are you working at eleven thirty?"

"Long story," Chandler sighed, "Why are you calling me so late?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, it's just eight thirty here in Nevada."

"Right.  Wait, Nevada?  What the hell are you doing in Nevada?"

"Well, honey, that's what I called to tell you.  It's about your father."

*

Chandler didn't really remember driving home, but he had, and he walked into his front door at about one-thirty am.  To his surprise, Monica was still awake, and was seated in the living room.

"Mon?"

"It's about time," Monica said harshly, as she stood up, "Charlie snuck out of the house to go to some party.  I—I can't handle him anymore, Chandler, and I am tired of being the one that has to.  You have to start backing me up here.  I am sick of always being the bad guy!"

"Monica—"

"No, look, I know you work long hours, but Charlie and Ellie are your children too, and you need to start acting like a father!  Charlie's coach found marijuana in his locker—_marijuana_!  And it's not like Ellie is doing much better.  She just totally ignores me now, and refuses to leave her bedroom!  I'm sick of it, and I am sick of dealing with it alone!"

"Mon, I'm sorry, I had no idea it was so bad, but—"

"No, _of course_ you have no idea!  You're never home!  And even when you are, you hole yourself up in your study, to work on that fucking novel that you've been working on since…since you quit your data-processing job back in The City!  I mean, if you are going to be turning out one book every sixteen years, then it's a good thing you fell into advertising," Monica sighed.

"Mon, what do you want me to say?"

Monica huffed, and shook her head, but said nothing.

"Fine," Chandler said, sighing softly, "I will talk to Charlie when he gets home, and I will talk to Ellie tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Oh, and that's just going to make it all better?  _Valiant Dad_ walks in with his words of wisdom, and everything is going to be okay?" Monica's voice was full of bitter sarcasm.

"I didn't say that, I—"

"Can you just be their father all the time, and not when I yell at you, or fight with you?" Monica sighed sadly.

"Mon," Chandler closed his eyes, and took a step toward Monica, who was peering out the living room window, presumably to watch for Charlie, "Mon, do you…do you think I am a bad father?"

Monica turned to look at Chandler, and was surprised to see that he was crying.  She shook her head, shocked at how strongly her husband had reacted to their argument.  They'd had this argument several times before—how was this any different?

"Chandler, you know I don't think you're a bad father. I am just…tired, I guess," Monica sighed sadly.

"My Dad is dying," Chandler said suddenly.

"What?" Monica closed the gap between her and Chandler and looked up at him.

"That's why my Mom called me.  My Dad has prostate Cancer, and he's going to die."

"Oh…oh, Chandler, I am so sorry," Monica wrapped her arms around Chandler tenderly.

"I just…I've left so much unsaid between us.  I don't want…I don't want Charlie to…resent me because I wasn't there."

"He doesn't resent you.  Well, he does, but he resents everyone—he's a teenager."

"I suppose," Chandler sighed, "I need to go to Las Vegas," he whispered, "And I'd like you to come with me."

"Of course I'll come," Monica said softly, "but what about Charlie and Ellie?"

"They can come too.  I think it'll be good for our family to spend some time together…plus, I'd like the kids to get to know their grandfather a bit more."

"Okay.  As Joey would say if he were still here, 'Vegas, Baybee!'" Monica smiled.

"Yeah," Chandler sighed sadly, "Vegas, baybee."

_One flight down _

_There's a song on low _

_And your mind just picked up on the sound _

_Now you know you're wrong _

_Because it drifts like smoke _

_And it's been there playing all along _

_Now you know _

_Now you know _

_The reeds and brass have been weaving _

_Leading into a single note _

_In this place _

_Where your arms unfold _

_Here at last you see your ancient face _

_Now you know _

_Now you know _

_The cadence rolls in broken _

_Plays it over and then goes _

_One flight down _

_There's a song on low _

_And it's been there playing all along _

_Now you know _

_Now you know_


	2. Looking For a Warning Sign

**Note: Slight Season 9 Spoilers in the Author's Note.**

Author's Note: Wow, um, okay, I wrote this whole story thing, and got all these reviews about Chandler being in advertising…. apparently no one thinks he can do it, LOL.  I have a feeling that's what he is gonna end up doing on the show, though.  Just a guess, LOL.  Anyhoo, not a lot happens here, I just need to do some more set up.  And since I've been on about a billion family 'vacations' I thought I'd jot it down.  It may suck, but oh well…

_One Flight Down_

_Chapter Two: Looking For a Warning Sign_

"Come on Ellie, we're gonna miss the flight!" Monica yelled from the bottom of the stairs.  When there was no response, Monica tried again.  "Ellie!"

Chandler walked back into the house, shaking the snow from him.  "Where's Ellie?" he asked.

"I don't know," Monica said exasperatedly, her hand waving toward the staircase.

"Elaine Victoria Bing, downstairs, NOW," Chandler boomed.

Ellie slowly emerged from her room, and made her way downstairs, her bag dragging behind her.

"Ellie, please don't drag your bag on the carpet," Monica said.  Ellie shot her a dirty look, and tossed her bag toward her father.

"It took you a while to figure out what shade of black to wear to the airport, huh?" Chandler said sarcastically, as Ellie huffed past her parents.

Elaine had always been a curious and energetic child, and had always excelled in her studies.  She was like a sponge, absorbing everything around her.  Then, about three months ago, the thirteen year old began to withdraw, and traded in her fashionable, feminine clothes for black, billowy outfits that hid her tiny frame.

Elaine was a spitting image of her mother, and at times, Chandler found the resemblance almost creepy.  But as much as she resembled Monica physically, Ellie and Monica could not have been more different personality-wise.  Consequently, Ellie had always been Daddy's girl, and the two of them were as close as a father and daughter could be, until she withdrew from everything and everyone around her.

Her odd behavior had stung Chandler, and he was unprepared to deal with the rejection.  And unlike Monica, who had worked to drag Ellie out of her shell by constantly bugging and nagging her, Chandler pulled away, and waited; hoping that it was just a phase—a typical adolescent behavior—that she would eventually get over.

He could not accept that their relationship would never be the same again.

"Is that everything?" Chandler looked at Monica, who was busy re-checking the timers on the lights.

"Yeah, let me just check the coffee maker one more time," Monica said, and walked into the kitchen.

Chandler turned to walk out the front door, and nearly ran straight into Charlie.

"Whoa, where are you going? We're leaving," Chandler said.

"I gotta call Amanda to tell her goodbye," Charlie said shortly.

"I thought you called her at breakfast?"

"I need to call again," Charlie replied.

"No, we're late for the airport," Chandler said, and pointed to the door wordlessly.

Charlie rolled his eyes, and stalked out to the car, kicking the doorframe as he walked through.

"Hey!" Chandler yelled to the now-empty doorway.

"What's going on?" Monica said, as she walked back into the entryway.

"Nothing, let's go," Chandler sighed.

They walked out to their Four-Runner, to find Ellie and Charlie arguing in the backseat.

"Already?" Monica sighed, shaking her head.

"It's gonna be a long week," Chandler said, and made his way over to the driver's side of the truck.  "Hey!  Knock it off, both of you!"

"She's being a bitch," Charlie yelled, as he swatted his sister on the arm.  She shot him an icy glare, before turning to stare out the window.

"Watch your mouth," Monica said, as she climbed into the truck.

"I don't want to hear it, Charlie," Chandler said, "We have a long trip ahead, so you'll just have to deal."

"Yeah, you _never _want to hear it," Charlie spat.

"Exactly what is that supposed to mean?" Chandler turned to look at his son.

"Charlie get your shoes off of the seat," Monica said.

"Nothing, let's just go," Charlie said resignedly.

Chandler took a deep breath, and started the vehicle, before looking at his children through the rear-view mirror.  How had they turned into _That Family_?  The dysfunctional, screaming family that the rest of the neighborhood talked about?  What had happened to their perfect little clan?

Growing up, Charlie had always been the quiet one, and had always related more to Monica than to Chandler.  Naturally, he was a spitting image of his father.  He had always been a neat freak like his mother, and had always gotten on his little sister's bad side by constantly criticizing her unkempt bedroom.

Lately, though, he had gotten more lackadaisical, and more mouthy. He was constantly skipping school to smoke pot in the Burger King parking lot, and was hanging out with a darker element.  Monica was at her wit's end with Charlie, and Chandler, who had never really been able to get through to his son in the first place, had chosen to ignore the problem.  Chandler's apathetic attitude toward his children was the root of most of Monica and Chandler's problems.

"Charlie, STOP!" Ellie said loudly.

"Charlie, knock it off!" Chandler yelled.

"She's eating chocolate in the car!" Charlie smiled slyly.

"Thanks, _jerk_," Ellie mumbled.

"Ellie, no eating in the car," Monica said crossly.

"Whatever," Ellie whispered, shoving the remainder of the candy into her mouth.

"Can't we drop them off at your parent's house?" Chandler whispered.

"As much as I'd love to do that to my folks," Monica smiled, "They're in Boston visiting Ross and Rachel.  Plus, we already booked the tickets."

"Ugh," Chandler shook his head.

Las Vegas, Nevada 

"I am _not_ kidding you, Charlie, ONE more word out of you, and you'll be spending the rest of this trip in your hotel room!" Monica shook her head, as she, Chandler, Charlie and Ellie made their way out of baggage claim.

The flight had been atrocious.  Charlie and Ellie would not stop arguing, prompting Chandler to trade seats with Charlie, just to shut them up.  Ellie had gotten air sick, and for some mysterious reason decided to blame it on Monica.  By the time they'd exited the airport, both Chandler and Monica looked as though they had been put through a ringer, and the children weren't on speaking terms with anyone, least of all each other.

"Do you have the hotel information?" Chandler asked Monica.

"No, you printed it out," Monica said shortly.

"And I gave it to you to put in your purse," Chandler said.

"No, you didn't," Monica argued.

"That's fine, it can't be that hard to get to…the hotel's on the Strip."

"Which one are we staying at?" Monica asked tiredly, her mind already drifting to a nice cool room and a large, soft bed.

"Well, I know it starts with an M…"

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Monica said incredulously.

"That's why we have the print out!" Chandler pointed out.

"Great," Monica shook her head, as a taxi pulled up to them.

"Where to?" the driver said, as he opened the trunk to load their bags.

"The hotel is on the Strip, and it starts with M," Chandler smiled sheepishly.

"What?" the driver looked at Chandler, annoyed.

"Which hotels start with M?" Monica asked.

"Well," said the driver, as he looked to the sky, "there's Mandalay Bay, MGM Grand, Mirage…"

"Mirage!" Chandler snapped his fingers and grinned triumphantly, prompting an annoyed glare from Monica.

"You're not allowed to go downstairs without us," Monica said, as the foursome stood in front of the two rooms they had booked, "and no noise, and NO getting into the minibar!"

"I am _not_ sharing a room with her," Charlie announced.

"YES, you are," Chandler said sternly, and opened the door to his and Monica's room, "and you will NOT murder each other," he said flippantly, and dragged his and Monica's suitcases into the room.

Monica rolled her eyes, and followed Chandler into the room, once she watched the kids go into theirs.  She closed the door, and sighed.  Her moment of sweet silence was broken, when Chandler turned on the television.

"Ooooh, Chandler, please turn it off!" Monica whined, and fell onto the bed heavily.

"Mon, the game's on!" Chandler whined in return.

Monica pulled a pillow over her head, and sighed again.  Her stress over the day had come to a head, and she could no longer control the onslaught of tears that hit her.  This trip was going to be hell, if today was any indication.  Her body trembled as her crying intensified, and she was unaware that Chandler had flipped off the television, until she felt him pull the pillow from her head, and place his hand on the small of her back.

"Mon," he whispered into her ear, as he pulled her toward him, "what's wrong?"

Monica sniffled loudly, and buried her face into his chest.  "What isn't?" she whispered.

_A warning sign_

_I missed the good part then I realised_

_I started looking and the bubble burst_

_I started looking for excuses_

_Come on in_

_I've got to tell you what a state I'm in_

_I've got to tell you in my loudest tones_

_That I started looking for a warning sign_

_When the truth is_

_I miss you_

_Yeah the truth is_

_That I miss you so_

_A warning sign_

_You came back to haunt me and I realised_

_That you were an island and I passed you by_

_You were an island to discover_

_Come on in_

_I've got to tell you what a state I'm in_

_I've got to tell you in my loudest tones_

_That I started looking for a warning sign_

_And the truth is_

_I miss you_

_Yeah the truth is_

_I miss you so_

_And I'm tired_

_I should not have let you go_

_So I crawl back into your open arms_

_Yes I crawl back into your open arms_

_And I crawl back into your open arms_

_Yes I crawl back into your open arms_

_(A Warning Sign—Coldplay)_


End file.
